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Tíkhon
knew
his
master
's
habit
of
sometimes
thinking
aloud
,
and
therefore
met
with
unaltered
looks
the
angrily
inquisitive
expression
of
the
face
that
emerged
from
the
shirt
.
"
Gone
to
bed
?
"
asked
the
prince
.
Tíkhon
,
like
all
good
valets
,
instinctively
knew
the
direction
of
his
master
's
thoughts
.
He
guessed
that
the
question
referred
to
Prince
Vasíli
and
his
son
.
"
They
have
gone
to
bed
and
put
out
their
lights
,
your
excellency
.
"
"
No
good
...
no
good
...
"
said
the
prince
rapidly
,
and
thrusting
his
feet
into
his
slippers
and
his
arms
into
the
sleeves
of
his
dressing
gown
,
he
went
to
the
couch
on
which
he
slept
.
Though
no
words
had
passed
between
Anatole
and
Mademoiselle
Bourienne
,
they
quite
understood
one
another
as
to
the
first
part
of
their
romance
,
up
to
the
appearance
of
the
pauvre
mère
;
they
understood
that
they
had
much
to
say
to
one
another
in
private
and
so
they
had
been
seeking
an
opportunity
since
morning
to
meet
one
another
alone
.
When
Princess
Mary
went
to
her
father
's
room
at
the
usual
hour
,
Mademoiselle
Bourienne
and
Anatole
met
in
the
conservatory
.
Princess
Mary
went
to
the
door
of
the
study
with
special
trepidation
.
It
seemed
to
her
that
not
only
did
everybody
know
that
her
fate
would
be
decided
that
day
,
but
that
they
also
knew
what
she
thought
about
it
.
She
read
this
in
Tíkhon
's
face
and
in
that
of
Prince
Vasíli
's
valet
,
who
made
her
a
low
bow
when
she
met
him
in
the
corridor
carrying
hot
water
.
The
old
prince
was
very
affectionate
and
careful
in
his
treatment
of
his
daughter
that
morning
.
Princess
Mary
well
knew
this
painstaking
expression
of
her
father
's
.
His
face
wore
that
expression
when
his
dry
hands
clenched
with
vexation
at
her
not
understanding
a
sum
in
arithmetic
,
when
rising
from
his
chair
he
would
walk
away
from
her
,
repeating
in
a
low
voice
the
same
words
several
times
over
.
He
came
to
the
point
at
once
,
treating
her
ceremoniously
.
